Disclaimer: Garfield and all related characters are the property of Paws Inc. and Paramount Global/Nickelodeon at the time of this story's creation.
*Note: This chapter takes place after the events of "What Happened To Lyman?"*
Garfield In: To Feline is Human - Part 1
The sun rises once again above the city of Muncie, Indiana. To humans, its bright light represents the designated wake-up call for adults and children alike to get up and ready themselves to either go to work or to go to school. To cats however, it's a reminder of how lucky they have it, since they don't have to go to work or school, as their human masters already provide them with all the necessities they need to survive. Yessiree, all cats love Monday mornings…
…except for a cat named Garfield.
To Garfield, the Monday morning sun represents the beginning of the horrible day that awaits him. As everyone knows at this point, Garfield HATES Mondays, for terrible things always seem to happen to him on this one particular day of the week, whether it be a loose floorboard smacking him, or him being splutted by some random pie being thrown in his face. Seriously, who keeps throwing all those damn pies!?
So yeah, Mondays seem to hate Garfield more than he hates them…
…as perfectly demonstrated by the morning sunlight shining itself right into his eyes.
With a loud grumble, the orange cat reluctantly gets himself up from his little bed and utters out a familiar phrase.
"I HATE Mondays!" Garfield said.
Yawning before smacking his lips, the cat scratches his ass as he slowly makes his way into the kitchen, expecting his owner to already be up and making pancakes for him. But upon entering, he notices that something is missing…
…or rather, someone is missing.
"UGGGGHHHH!" The grumpy feline groans, heading out of the kitchen to find his full-time cook, this Monday already off to a bad start.
Garfield opens the door to Jon's bedroom, and lo and behold, his owner remains fast asleep in his comfy bed. Infuriated by his apparent laziness (how ironic), the cat jumps onto the bed and proceeds to shake the blanket in a vigorous manner.
"Jon, I'm hungry! Get your lazy ass out of bed and make me breakfast!" Garfield angrily shouts.
"Mmmmmm. Five more minutes, mommy." Jon drowsily mutters, still remaining half-asleep.
"That does it! This calls for a more drastic approach!" Garfield said, having fed up with having to wait for his owner to arouse himself from his comfy mattress.
Leaping off of the bed, the irritated feline grabs the edge of the blanket and…
*WHOOSH*
…proceeds to yank it, sending it and the person it's covering straight down to the floor.
"Oh, god! I'm awake! I'm awake!" Jon frantically shouts.
"Bout time, sleepyhead." Garfield said, watching as his owner gets himself out from under the blanket.
"Oh, it's you." Jon said, unamused by his cat's presence, let alone his frowny face. "*SIGH* Would I be correct at assuming that you pulled me out of bed to, perhaps say, make your breakfast?"
"Correct, Mister Arbuckle." Garfield nods. "And would I also be correct to assess that my breakfast in question would be, perhaps say, blueberry pancakes?"
"Fine." Jon said, figuring that he might as well feed his pets now that he's awake. "Anything else, sire?" He asks sarcastically.
"Yes, wash my blanket, change my kitty litter, and retread my scratching post. And make it snappy!" Garfield demands, snapping his fingers.
"Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it." The cartoonist said to himself as he departs from his bedroom.
"I'll ignore that remark." The cat retorts. "I swear, sometimes I don't know why I keep him."
Jon pours the batter into the pan as he prepares to drop the blueberries into the pancakes. As he's cooking, his grouchy cat enters the kitchen, expecting his food to be done in record time. Following him into the kitchen is his fellow feline friend, Arlene, and canine friend, Odie, who's still recovering from his near-fatal injuries.
"How ya holdin up, old buddy?" Garfield asks, showing genuine concern for the dog.
*ARF* Odie smiles and gives him a thumbs up, letting him know that he's doing alright.
"That's good." The orange cat said, glad that their friendship has been reconciled.
"So, what's on the agenda today, busy man?" Arlene asks sarcastically.
"Well, eating and sleeping for starters, maybe catching up on some TV shows, and of course harassing the mailman." Garfield replies. "That is, if someone would hurry the hell up with my breakfast!" He suddenly shouts, pounding his fist on the dining table.
"I'm going, Garfield! I'm going!" Jon shouts, flipping one of the pancakes. "Sheesh."
"Garfield, don't you think you're being too hard on him?" The pink cat asks. "I mean, the poor guy works his ass off and practiaclly slaves himself to provide for all of us."
*MMM HMM* Odie nods in agreement.
"Oh, big fat hairy deal." Garfield said, brushing her off. "It's not like the guy actually goes to work. All he does is sit around in the basement all day drawing those silly little cartoons for an already dying medium."
"That still counts as work, which you're apparently allergic to." Arlene argues.
"Hey, I'll work my hairy butt off if it means I get to nap longer or eat an extra-large pizza, but I refuse to do anyone else's petty little chores when they can just do it themselves." Garfield argues back. "Besides, I'm a cat, so I don't have to go to work like humans do." He brags, putting his feet on the table.
"Still, you should be thankful that you still have your owner…unlike me." The pink cat laments, still trying to cope with the death of her former owner.
*SIGH* Odie places a comforting paw on Arlene's shoulder, knowing perfectly well what she's going through, having also dealt with the loss of his owner.
"Pancakes are ready!"
Before their conversation could get even more depressing, Jon heads to the table and places three plates full of pancakes onto it.
"Took ya long enough!" Garfield said, devouring all of his pancakes before anyone could even look at how tasty they are.
Jon takes a seat on the chair across from his pets, a powdered sugar donut in his hands. But before he could even take one bite of his well-deserved treat, Garfield quickly swipes it and devours the whole thing in one gulp.
"Garfield! That was my last donut!" Jon scolds.
"Hey, don't blame me. *BURP* It's my job to eat." Garfield said, wiping his powdered mouth with Jon's blue shirt.
"Cut that out!" The cartoonist shouts, pulling his shirt away from the cat. "Oh, great. Now I gotta get all this powder off my shirt, thanks to you."
"Huh, guess that's why they call it a powder-blue oxford shirt." Garfield said to the reader.
"*SIGH* You know Garfield, I wish that, just for once, you'd be in my shoes! That way, you would know what it's really like for us humans to put up with an ungrateful brat like you!" Jon angrily shouts before leaving the kitchen.
"He's got a point, you know." Arlene said.
"Ha, like he thinks it's so miserable being a human. I mean, he can just go out and grab himself some food whenever he feels like it, while I have to wait for his lazy ass to get out of bed just to get mine!" Garfield said, getting his point across. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm already late for my post-breakfast nap."
Jon places his powder-stained shirt in the washer as he ponders to himself regarding his cat's recent behavior.
"That cat really doesn't know easy he has it." The cartoonist said. "I would kill to have a life where I can just lie around and eat all day. *SIGH* Yep, that'd be the dream."
Dream…
Dream…
*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* An alarm clock blares its loud speakers right next to the large pet bed. Just a few more seconds of this agonizing sound was enough for the bed's occupant to stick his hand from under his blanket and smash the clock into pieces.
"I HATE alarm clocks!" Garfield said, stretching his arms. "But not as much as waking up and finding out that it's still Monday! I might as well just get this day over with."
Upon standing up however, Garfield immediately notices that something feels off…
…like he feels…
…taller than usual.
"Huh, that's strange." He said. "I don't remember the living room being this small. I better go wash my face."
Garfield retreats himself to the bathroom, surprisingly able to open the door without any trouble. Upon entering, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and…
"AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!"
…lets out a scream so loud that everyone in the neighborhood can hear it.
"No! This isn't possible! This can't be real!" Garfield shouts, taking a good long look at his hands…
…hands that look like they belong to…
…a human!